


the slow dance of the infinite stars

by majesdane



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Based off the story "Night on the Galactic Railroad". | <i>"This ticket can take you anywhere your heart desires. Higher than the sky, even, if that was what you wanted." </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	the slow dance of the infinite stars

if you remember me, then i don't care if everyone else forgets.   
\--  _kafka on the shore_ , haruki murakami  
  
  
  
  
She knew the Milky Way was made up of stars, but she didn't know how to say that.   
  
Which was ridiculous, really. It wasn't like it was that difficult of a question. "You can see why it's been described as a river, or a thin stream of milk." The teacher had turned to the class. "Does anyone know what it is that actually makes up this hazy white region in space?"   
  
A few eager hands had shot up as soon as she'd finished. It was an easy answer; Utena had moved to put her own hand up as well, but she'd changed her mind at the last minute and brought it back down to her side. Of course the Milky Way was made up of stars. She'd read it in a book somewhere or seen it on television. Or something. But she was feeling worn out and tired today, mostly because of the warm summer sunlight that was splashed right across her desk, and her brain was fuzzy and slow.   
  
"Tenjou," the teacher said, ignoring the other students. She'd seemed to pick up on Utena's hesitancy. "You know what the answer is, don't you?"   
  
She tried to answer. She stood up and opened her mouth to speak. She was  _sure_  it was stars, especially when the teacher pressed harder, asking what would show up if she were to look at the Milky Way with a telescope. Utena could feel the stares from her fellow students; it made her flustered.   
  
Thankfully (or maybe not so), the teacher turned to another student. Kiryuu Touga.   
  
Touga's hand had been one that had shot into the air so quickly a moment ago, but now he hesitated too, staring down at his feet. It was strange -- and then, Utena realized, he felt sorry for her. He didn't want to embarrass her. But that was odd, too, in and of itself. Touga didn't seem like that kind of person. Utena ran her fingers over a small scratch on her desk and said nothing.   
  
"All right." The teacher sighed at last. "The Milky Way is made up of a great number of tiny stars. You can see them when you look at it through a telescope. Isn't that right, Tenjou?"   
  
Utena nodded and sat down quickly. After a long moment, she glanced over at Touga, but his eyes were focused straight ahead. She felt sad and angry for herself -- and for him too. She had known the answer. Now, with distinct clarity, she could recall sitting in her father's study, looking at his bookcase. She'd traced her finger over the spines of them, until she'd seen a book called, simply,  _The Milky Way_. She'd pulled the book out and thumbed through the pages, not knowing what she was looking for, but curious anyway.   
  
Her father had turned and noticed. They'd sat together on the floor and spent the next half hour looking at the pictures of the stars, until it was time for dinner.   
  
The teacher said, "Our sun and Earth are in the Milky Way, which transmits light at a given speed through space. When we look at a river, the deepest parts are the most dark to our eyes; in the Milky Way, the parts with the most stars seem the haziest and whitest. Those places are where the river bed of the sky is the densest and most far-reaching. The farther you look directly into it, the more blurry milky-white everything will appear. That is how we see the Milky Way today."   
  
By then the class had drawn to a close, and the sounds of shuffling papers and books being put away filled the air.   
  
  
;;   
  
  
Her parents had not been home for quite some time.   
  
But it was only last year when Utena moved in with her aunt. The roses had been in full bloom then, and every morning she woke up to the smell of them, just outside her window in her aunt's garden out front. She had expected her parents to be home soon, but they hadn't turned up. They'd gone to an expedition up north. Utena didn't know how long things like that were supposed to last.   
  
"There's no point in pretending like your parents are coming back," Juri told her. The three of them -- Juri, Utena, and a girl Utena didn't know, who had cold, violet eyes -- stood by the greenhouse that sat to off to one side on the school's quad. "They've been arrested, haven't they? I heard they were doing something illegal."   
  
Utena gritted her teeth, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "No. They're not like that. They're coming back soon."   
  
"Is that true, Prince?" The violet-eyed girl asked. Her mouth turned up into a slight, mean smile. "You know there's no such thing as miracles."   
  
  
;;   
  
  
"Are you going to the Milky Way festival tonight?" Wakaba said, opening her lunch box.   
  
On nice days, they were allowed to sit outside on the quad for lunch. Utena was grateful for the reprieve from the hot, stuffy classrooms they've been sitting in all morning, Juri's words still ringing in her ears. "I haven't decided," Utena said. She'd promised her aunt she'd help with the garden this afternoon once classes were out.   
  
It was only a short walk from her aunt's house -- it felt strange to call it  _home_ , so Utena didn't -- to the center of town, where the festival was being held. She wouldn't have to stay long; perhaps she'd just go to appease Wakaba, to stand by the river with her and help her set sail to the little lighted boats they sent down the water every year. The flickering candles looked like stars in the darkness.   
  
"You  _have_ to come," Wakaba insisted. But then she paused, her smile fading somewhat. "Or are you worried about running into other people -- ?" She didn't finish the thought, just gazed purposefully over to where Juri and the violet-eyed girl (Utena had come to learn her name as Shiori) and two other boys from their grade were sitting.   
  
"I don't care about them," Utena said flippantly, unpacking her own lunch. And she didn't, really. Not too much, anyway. They could think what they wanted to -- even though the thought of them laughing at Utena's parents being locked away in jail made her blood boil. She didn't know where that stupid rumor had come from.   
  
A few years earlier, her class had put on a play for the end of the year,  _The Tale of the Rose_ , a story about a kind prince, who is tricked and captured by a witch. In the end, the witch is revealed to be his younger sister, who the prince had neglected while running off to save all of the other girls in the world.   
  
Utena had desperately wanted to play the role of the prince. She hadn't even known why, exactly. He hadn't even been that nice of a prince, all things considered. He had tried to be though, and that seemed like it was good enough. One could only ever  _try_ , after all. And girls could be princes, too, she'd thought, though her classmates had disagreed with that.   
  
("Girls can't be princes, only princesses.")   
  
("Yeah. And swords don't go well with dresses.")   
  
She was called "the Prince," and the nickname had stuck since then.   
  
She pretended like it bothered her, because she knew that was what everyone wanted to think. They wanted to think that it put her off, that it got under her skin. That it made her regret wanting to play the part in the first place. But it didn't. Not even a little.   
  
"All right," she told Wakaba. "Why not? I'll see you there."   
  
  
;;   
  
  
Her parents were friends with the Kiryuu family, so Utena had known Touga for as long as she could remember. He'd never been unkind to her, and he didn't bother her at school like some of the others did, but they weren't particularly close. When they were younger, still in the early years of elementary school, they'd walked home together, as Touga lived only a few streets down past Utena's house, in the richer part of town.   
  
Utena had always loved Touga's house, with the heavy, velvet curtains, the old, picturesque rooms, the tall windows, and the little fountain out in front. They had koi in the pond that the fountain spilled out into. Utena liked to hover on the edges of it, trailing her fingers in the water and watching the koi dart about.   
  
Touga caught up with her on her way home to her aunt's house. His uniform jacket was unbuttoned, his bag slung over one shoulder. "Hi."   
  
"Hi."   
  
"You're going to the festival tonight, aren't you?" he asked, slowing down to keep in stride with her. He was a foot taller than Utena and athletic, his auburn hair cut just above his shoulders. His eyes were the color of a spring sky. "I heard over heard you talking to Wakaba at lunch."   
  
It had been a while since they'd spoken more than a few words to each other, and even longer since Touga had addressed her outside of class. They didn't really seem to move among the same circles of friends, and even though Touga had never said anything unkind to Utena, it felt strange now that he was asking about her.   
  
Utena gave a noncommittal shrug. "Maybe."   
  
Touga paused. "Oh. I was hoping to see you there."   
  
"Well, I haven't decided," Utena told him bluntly, glancing over and shifting her own bag to her other shoulder. "But if I do, I'll look for you," she added a moment later, in a softer tone. She supposed it wouldn't hurt to be nice for a moment; she was almost at her aunt's house anyway.   
  
  
;;   
  
  
She was supposed to meet Wakaba in town, but she stopped for a moment to linger on the little hill that overlooked the town. It was a midpoint between their two houses and they usually met there; during spring and summer holidays, they'd sit underneath the large maple tree there and watch the clouds float by. There was an old, worn-down pillar of a weather station a little to the left of it, and Utena sat down at the base of it, on the cool grass.   
  
As she waited, she gazed out at the town, watching the flicker of lights burning through the darkness. Now and then she caught a snatch of a whistle, a laugh, a shout, carried up to the hill by the slight evening wind. She was tired from the afternoon's work in her aunt's garden, and was dreading doing the homework that she'd put off for later.   
  
Utena sighed and laid back. The stars glittered against the black velvet backdrop of the sky. She tried to see the smattering of individual stars in the Milky Way, like her teacher had described it, but instead she only saw the milky splash of light. In fact, the more she looked, the less she could see the stars; she could only see tiny, magnificent things: a little cluster of trees, a long, stretching pasture, butterflies that darted about.   
  
The town itself simply grew more blurry in her eyes. A distant memory.   
  
She was startled awake by the sound of someone shouting.   
  
"Milky Way Station! Milky Way Station!"   
  
Utena sat up, glancing about, her eyes stinging from the bright blaze of light above. She shook her head and looked about, gathering her wits. It took her a moment to realize she was sitting on a train. The seats were covered in bright red velvet, the edges trimmed with intricate wood carvings that were painted gold. It made Utena think of an old western train she'd seen in a book once.   
  
"Oh, Utena!" A voice called out cheerfully, from behind her.   
  
Utena twisted around to see Touga coming into the cabin, his wet hair slicked back from his forehead, his eyes bright and shining. He waved and smiled as he came over to her. Utena meant to ask him then if he had been on the train from the very beginning, but Touga chimed in before she could.   
  
"The train came by the river," he said. "Everyone ran to catch it, but they still missed it. Even Juri; she ran like mad, but in the end, she couldn't keep up with me." He grinned, and it felt as though Utena was being let in on some kind of secret. "I didn't think you'd be here."   
  
"Should we wait for the others?" Utena asked slowly, glancing around.   
  
Touga shook his head. "It's no use. Juri's older sister came to get her anyway." He opened his mouth a moment later as if to say something else, but abruptly shut it instead. "Oh," he said at last, frowning slightly. "I forgot all of my things by the river. No matter though," he said, shrugging off his uncertainty like a coat. "We'll be at Rose Garden Station soon." He pointed at a sign the train was passing.  _Rose Garden Station_. "Wait until you see it. The flowers are so lovely."   
  
"You're all wet." Utena said, suddenly noticing for the first time. "Did something happen?"   
  
Touga looked down at himself. "I don't know." He sounded surprised. "I hadn't noticed."   
  
Utena kneeled on her seat, staring at the window. The train flew by fields blanketed in beautiful purple and blue flowers; Utena imagined them as sweet-smelling, thought of jumping out of the train quickly to gather up a handful of them. She would bring them up to her face and breathe in deeply and link them together and make a crown to put upon both their heads.   
  
Of course, the train moved too quickly for something like that, but she smiled anyway, at the thought of it. "I can't believe I made it into the sky's field," she said, remembering looking up at the Milky Way from her spot on the hill.   
  
"I hope my mom forgives me," Touga said suddenly, as if something had just occurred to him. He said it more to himself than Utena, who looked at him curiously. He frowned, lost in thought. "I would go to the end of the world to make her happy. But I don't know what would make her happiest."   
  
"At least your mom's normal," Utena said with a sigh. She thought of her own mother -- and her father too -- and their absence and felt a dull ache at the last memory of them, smiling and waving goodbye. She thought of her aunt, sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea and doing work she'd brought home from the office, waiting for Utena to come home from the festival.   
  
"I suppose it's okay, if you make other people happy with the things you do, so I think my mother will forgive me," Touga said with an air of confidence. He looked as though he'd made up his mind about something.   
  
Utena meant to ask him about it, but all at once the cabin was filled with a bright light; looking out the train window, she saw red hills in the distance, and a glittering river of water twisting up and through them, veering away from its place beside the train tracks. The air smelled sweet; she could hear the wind as it rushed through the long grass outside.   
  
"We'll be at the Rose Garden Station soon."   
  
"Eleven o'clock, not a second later."   
  
  
;;   
  
  
The river ran through the mountains and the rose garden, too, though it was narrow and shallow there; Utena and Touga took off their shoes so that they could wade through it. Roses, come loose from the ground, floated in the water like lotuses. Utena bent down to pick one up, the petals wet and soft against her skin. She smiled, bringing it up to her nose and inhaling deeply, breathing in the scent of it.  
  
There was a twenty minute stop over at the Rose Garden Station; the garden had looked too beautiful to just observe from the train car, and Utena had been curious as to who it was that took care of a garden of this size. It seemed to stretch on forever, in all directions -- it was more like an endless field of flowers than any sort of garden at all.  
  
"This reminds me of my aunt's house," Utena said, as they gently picked their way through the roses, wandering about. "Her garden is full of beautiful pink roses -- though not as lovely as these. But the air is so sweet when they're in bloom." She set aside the loose rose she'd picked up, wiping her wet hands on her blouse. "You should come see, sometime."  
  
"Is that a waterfall?" Touga asked, cocking his head to the side, listening. "It sounds like there's one nearby."  
  
He followed the sound and Utena followed him, until they were much deeper into the field. And soon enough, there was a little waterfall of sorts, where the river looped around again, dropping off an outcropping of rock. They came upon it all at once, stopping along the edge, peering down. It was much steeper of a drop than Utena had expected; several dozen meters below them, the water swirled, crashing against the rocks, rose petals bobbing up and down.  
  
"You're not afraid, standing so close to the edge?" A voice said behind them. They turned to see a girl standing a few feet away, holding onto a simple, golden watering can. "Most people would be."  
  
"There's so many roses!" Utena exclaimed, stepping away from the edge of the rocks and taking another sweeping look about the field. "Is this your garden?" she asked the girl.  
  
The girl nodded. "Yes. But truthfully, I think the  _roses_ are the ones who own _me_."  
  
She was only a little taller than Utena, but there was something about her that made her seem much older. More mature. She had tanned skin and long, wavy hair, that flowed down her back. Closer up, Utena could see that her eyes were an intriguing royal purple color. They had little flecks of gold in them, like tiny sparks.  
  
"Oh. Who are you?"  
  
"Himemiya Anthy," Touga told Utena, coming up next to her. "There's a little plaque on the on the station platform with her name on it," he explained with a smile. "We're just stopped here for a little while," he went on, turning to Anthy. "We're traveling on the Milky Way Express."  
  
Curiosity flashed in Anthy's eyes. "Oh. Where is it that you're going?" She set down the watering can at her feet.  
  
"I-I don't know." Utena flushed, suddenly embarrassed.  
  
"Do you have a ticket?"  
  
"Um . . . I don't . . . " Utena started, flushing more, but Touga was already digging around in his pockets, as if expecting her question.  
  
In a minute, he produced two pieces of ivory colored paper. Both of them were folded into two small, tight squares. He handed them over to Anthy who unfolded them slowly, turning them right-side up so that she could read them. There was a long pause, and then she looked up at them with a strange expression on her face. Utena felt a little flutter, like a butterfly had gotten trapped in her chest.   
  
Anthy said, "This ticket can take you anywhere your heart desires. Higher than the sky, even, if that was what you wanted." She folded the tickets back up and gave them back to Touga, who pocketed them once more, just as the soft chiming of bells could be heard in the distance.  
  
"We'd better be getting back," Touga said, his fingers closing gently around Utena's fist. "That's the warning that the train will be leaving soon."  
  
Utena looked to say goodbye to Anthy, but she had already turned away, watering the flowers. She allowed herself to be tugged along by Touga -- they were running, so as not to miss the train, and in a flash, they were back in their seats, looking out the window as Rose Garden Station grew small in the distance.  
  
  
;;  
  
  
They went a little ways further before arriving at the next stop. The next platform stood beside what looked like old ruins, the thick, alabaster blocks all yellowed and crumbling with age. On the platform stood a large group of boys, all dressed in turquoise school uniforms. Their clothes had an old-fashioned sort of look to them, and they reminded Utena of her own school's uniforms, a little.   
  
The boys looked up as the train came to a stop, lining up to board.  
  
They filled the cabin, sitting two in a seat. The last two to board were an older looking boy with light, shoulder length hair and glasses. The other boy looked much younger, with neatly combed hair and a smattering of freckles across his face. They sat down across from Utena and Touga as they began to move once more.  
  
The older boy met Utena's eyes. "Hello."  
  
There was a smoky smell in the cabin. It didn't smell like cigarettes, it was more of the smell of leaves burning.  "Where did you come from?" Utena asked curiously, smiling politely at the boy.  
  
"We were all at dinner," a boy sitting over in the next row said, leaning over. "We had just achieved something we'd been working toward for a long time. Something important." He frowned, pausing. "I can't remember what, exactly. But then something caught on fire, just outside the door of the dining hall, and the room filled with smoke."  
  
"We tried to get out," the boy next to him said, nodding. He had dark hair which was parted sharply to one side. "But the door was stuck."  
  
The original boy continued, "The smoke got into our lungs and made it hard to breathe. It was loud at first because everyone was yelling, but then suddenly it got very quiet. Something else must have happened after that, because the next thing we knew, we all ended up here." He surveyed the group of boys thoughtfully. "Maybe it had something to do with what we were working on."  
  
"Who can say?" The young boy sitting across from Utena mused, his head resting against the window.  
  
"World's End would know," a boy with dark, cropped hair said, matter-of-factly.  
  
Utena perked up at the name. "Oh, is that where you're headed?" She pulled out her tickets, showing them to the boys and nodding in Touga's direction. "That's where we're going," she told them.   
  
At last the older boy with glasses spoke. "World's End?" He looked out the window with a strange, longing expression on his face. "I've heard eternity exists there," he said in a soft voice. He turned, gazing at Utena. "You plan on going there? But you're only just a girl." His tone was sad. Disbelieving.   
  
He seemed about to say something more, but suddenly there came a loud chiming sound, like the _ding_  of an elevator that has reached its designated floor. The train slowed and the all of the boys began to slowly climb to their feet, stretching and mumbling to themselves.  
  
"What a shame," the boy with glasses sighed. "I would have liked to go to with you. But it appears as though this is our stop." He smiled again, and stood up, placing his hand on the shoulder of the boy next to him. "It's time to go, Mamiya," he said.  
  
 They moved past her and Touga, to where the cabin doors were being thrown open for exiting. "Take care," the boy said.   
  
Utena watched him and the others go. The platform outside was plain: only a small, white building, trimmed with a mint green color stood outside. Utena couldn't read what was written there; the characters had become too faded to make out. Eventually the train started up again, pulling away to the station. Utena waved goodbye, but none of the boys seemed to notice her.  
  
The cabin had grown silent and still. It made her sad, for some reason. Sitting back in her seat, Utena reached for Touga's hand. "Are we the only ones going all the way to the last stop?" she asked. Outside, the stars were nothing but a blur.   
  
"It looks like it," Touga said.  
  
She put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, listening to the quiet rumble of the train and feeling the gently sway of the cabin. Touga's thumb stroked lightly across the back of her hand; it made her feel warm and sleepy. She didn't know how much time had passed when she at last opened her eyes, at the sound of the cabin door being opened.  
  
"Oh, you're here!" Utena said cheerfully, sitting up as she saw Anthy coming down the aisle. "Did you get on at the last stop? I didn't see you." She slipped back down into her seat beside Touga.  
  
"Who's looking after the roses?" Touga wanted to know, straightening up.  
  
Anthy smiled a secret kind of smile. "Do you want one?" she asked instead, holding out apples towards them, one in each hand. "There's a little apple tree that grows just along the edge of my garden. It produces the most lovely fruit. I thought you might like something to eat, considering your long trip."  
  
Utena took one of the apples from Anthy, biting into it: it  _was_ lovely. It was sweet and ripe and reminded her of her parents and autumn, when they used to go to the park on crispy Sunday afternoons. Utena's father would push her on the swings, laughing when Utena cried to go higher. She was half-afraid of going so high that she'd swing all the way over the bar the swing was attached to, but in the end, she always came back down before she came close to it. There was a delicious strangeness to it, being caught somewhere between fear and bravery.   
  
"Thanks," Utena said, swallowing. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, running her finger along the soft stem of the apple. "It's the most wonderful apple I've ever tasted."  
  
Touga grinned, leaning against the window, spinning his own apple in one hand. "All other apples will taste so plain from now on." He laughed, biting into it. A trickle of juice ran down his chin. "Oh, look!" he exclaimed, turning his gaze outward once more. "A castle in the sky!"  
  
It was.  
  
It sat, inverted, in the stars, the flags on the towers fluttering gently in the breeze. Utena wondered what the castle was attached to, how it could hang upside down like that. Certainly no one could be living in a place like that; they'd fall right out of the sky. The silver river ran right underneath it; even the tallest tower in the castle was still far above the water. It must have been very high up indeed.  
  
"It's beautiful," Utena sighed, leaning back in her seat, admiring it.  
  
"I've always wanted to go there," Anthy said, almost dreamily. "Inside that castle is where eternity dwells."  
  
Touga made a soft thoughtful sound, taking another bite of his apple.   
  
"What is eternity?" Utena asked quietly, turning the apple over in her hands.  
  
Who could know what eternity was, she thought to herself. There was no such thing as something eternal. She looked over at Touga, who seemed transfixed by the strange castle in the sky, his eyes taking on a far-off look to them. Like he'd fallen under a spell. "Let's go there, Touga," she said loudly, purposefully. She tugged on his sleeve, wanting, suddenly desperately, to get his attention. "Okay? We'll go there together."  
  
"I wonder," Touga said, eyes fixed out the window. "Someone who lives in a place like that, they must know what true happiness is. Don't you think?"  
  
"Perhaps," Anthy got up, brushing off her skirt. "There's not too far to go now," she said, touching Utena's shoulder. "We should be stopping soon."  
  
Utena hadn't noticed a sign for an upcoming station. She looked out the window to try and catch a glimpse of a platform in the distance, but couldn't see anything except the tracks and the river and the stars, stretching out far beyond the horizon. Before she could ask Anthy about it, though, Anthy was already gone, the door to the train cabin sliding shut behind her.  
  
  
;;   
  
  
"Touga," Utena said quietly. "We're alone again."  
  
Touga gazed at her, but his eyes had taken on a faraway look, as if he couldn't really see her.   
  
"Let's stay together, okay?"   
  
"There's World's End," Touga said suddenly, springing up from his seat and leaning out the window. He pointed at a spot on the Milky Way not too far from where their train was now. "Look, Utena."   
  
Utena looked.  
  
She shivered as she looked at World's End, a huge black, gaping hole in the river. There was a bridge above it, where the train racks continued across, but no matter how hard Utena looked, she couldn't see to the other side of the bridge. The black hole seemed endless in depth; she couldn't tell how big it was or what might lay at the bottom of it. No matter how brightly the stars shone above it, the hole seemed to swallow up all the light.   
  
Her mouth was dry. She swallowed and licked her lips, steadying herself. "I'm not scared of it," she told Touga. "Of the dark, I mean. We'll go on together, as far as we can."   
  
Touga smiled. "Yes, we will. Oh, look over there." He turned and pointed again, though this time at a distant field, beyond World's End. "It's the most beautiful country I've ever seen. It looks as though it stretches on forever in every direction. Look, Utena," he said more urgently, excited now. "That must be eternity."   
  
When Utena looked, all she could see was a milky, blurry haze of nothingness, and suddenly, she felt very lonely. "Touga," she said, not looking away, but instead reaching out for him blindly. "We're going to stick together, remember?"   
  
She turned to take his hand.   
  
Touga was no longer there. There was only the red velvet seat that he'd been standing beside. Utena's heart leapt to her throat, and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She closed her eyes shut tight, her hands gripping her skirt. "We were supposed to go on together," she said out loud. She didn't want to open her eyes, to see that terrible empty space in front of her.   
  
She felt the train slowing down -- the rumble of the wheels on the tracks grew quieter, fading away into silence, as the cabin ceased its gentle rocking back and forth -- until it last it came to a stop. She opened her eyes and found herself at the doors of the cabin.   
  
They opened into nothingness: just the endless darkness of a starless sky.   
  
"It's okay, Utena," a voice said, and all at once Anthy was there by her side. She looked younger than Utena had seen her before, at the Rose Garden Station and then, later, as she passed through the cabin. She took Utena's hand in her own, her skin warm and soft. Utena felt suddenly calmer; she reached up with her free hand and wiped her tears away.   
  
"Himemiya."   
  
"Come on," Anthy said. "Let's go outside."   
  
They stepped outside into the sky, and Utena could see nothing but blackness.   
  
  
;;   
  
  
She opened her eyes.   
  
There was cool grass pricking gently against her bare skin and stars in the sky above her. She heard the soft rustle of leaves in the wind and sat up; she'd fallen asleep, exhausted, on the hill. Her eyes were sticky with sleep and cold tears, and she wiped at them haphazardly, an odd, heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach.   
  
The town below still twinkled with countless, radiant lights. Standing up and stretching with a yawn, she looked up once more at the stars. They hadn't seemed to have changed at all since she'd last laid down on the grass, so she must have not been asleep for very long. Another few moments of stretching and she was off, taking long strides down the hill and towards the river by the town, where everyone would be lighting floating lanterns.   
  
After a few moments, she came upon the main road; at the crossroad in the center of town she paused, looking down the street to her left, where she could see the turrets of the bridge that stood over the river where Touga and the others would be playing, lighting little boats and nudging them encouragingly downstream.  
  
Something was off, though -- it took Utena a moment to realize that the river was swimming in light, more so than usual, even on festival nights. She felt a sense of dread slowly began to overtake her, and she turned and ran down the road towards the river. Groups of people were milling about the area, having hushed, urgent conversations.   
  
Utena caught snatches of dialogue as she passed them.   
  
"A child has fallen into the water," she heard one woman say to another that had just arrived, and she felt her heart twist up into a knot.   
  
"Utena!" Wakaba called, spotting her and running over. The look on her face did little to quell the panicked feelings quickly rising up inside Utena. "Utena, did you hear? Touga's fallen in the river!"   
  
Utena was startled. "What?"   
  
"Juri was in a little boat, trying to push a lantern down the river. It tipped to one side and she fell out and Touga dove into the water to get her. He pushed Juri right back into the boat -- Shiori grabbed her and helped pull her up -- but then Touga went back under and no one could see him after that."   
  
"But, they're looking for him, right?"   
  
Wakaba nodded. "Everyone came over right away. But they still haven't been able to find him." Wakaba gripped Utena's hand, looking over at the crowd of people by the river's edge, huddled together in little pockets of conversation. "Touga's father came too," she said softly, after a moment.   
  
Utena glanced past Wakaba and saw him standing a few yards away. She untangled herself from Wakaba with a murmured apology and went to stand by Touga's father. She didn't know if she should say anything, so she held her hands in front of herself and stared out at the water. The ripples in the water flashed under the police lights. Further downstream, the water grew darker, blacker, until all it showed was a reflection of the Milky Way. It looked as though it had become simply an extension of the sky. Utena thought that maybe Touga could be nowhere but at the very end of the river of the Milky Way, at the darkest point.   
  
And yet still, she stood with everyone else, silently waiting. In her mind's eye, she could see Touga climbing out of the river a little ways off, wringing the water out his clothes, and running back to tell them all he was back.   
  
Suddenly, Touga's father said, in a flat, dazed voice, "It's no use. It's been forty-five minutes."   
  
I know where he is, Utena wanted to say, but couldn't. The words had gotten themselves lodged in her throat.   
  
"You're Utena, aren't you?" Touga's father seemed to notice her for the first time.   
  
Utena nodded and bowed, unable to speak.   
  
"Have your parents come home yet?" He took his watch off, gripping it in his hand.   
  
Utena shook her head.   
  
"How strange." He sounded distracted. "I wonder what could have happened. I only just got a letter from them a few days ago. They should be home by now. Perhaps their boat was delayed. Utena," he said, "You'll come by to our house tomorrow with everyone else, won't you?"   
  
He looked past her, and Utena followed his gaze, down the river where the water became a part of the galaxy itself, and felt the touch of Anthy's hand against hers.


End file.
